Harry Potter and The Half-Undead
by izfan26
Summary: harry gets bitten by a zombie and only turns halfway. better in story-form. enjoy.
1. the bite

"Harry! Oh, my god! Harry!"

"C'mon, mate, wake up!"

Harry was being shaken and slapped by two people, a male and a female. Their voices were anxious and desperate, but he did not want to open his eyes. He felt incredibly tired, and every part of his body ached. His arm was definitely the worst. It, for some reason, felt wet and sticky.

The girl shrieked loudly, which didn't help his throbbing skull. "Ron! Ron-look!"

"What?"

"He's got a bite! He's got a bite, Ron, he's gonna turn!"

"Wha- but- he can't- Hermione, that's really not funny!"

"Oh, trust me, I know!" Hermione yanked Harry's arm up and presumably showed it to Ron. "Does that look funny, Ronald? D'you still think I'm joking? Why the hell would I joke about that anyway!?" a piece of cloth was tied roughly around his, Harry's mouth.

"Wait, Hermione, what're you-?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm saving both our skins! Now, help me with him. C'mon, Harry," she added soothingly to him, half-dragging him to his feet.

As he was dragged down what felt like a cobblestone street, he slowly regained memories of these two strange people. Ron Weasley, the poor, red-haired, insensitive wizard, who had saved him and Hermione from a giant troll, and whose pet rat had been a man named Wormtail who as good as killed Harry's parents.

And Hermione, the bushy-haired, brainiac, muggle-born girl, who spent nearly all her time in the library, had parents who were dentists, and saved his life by helping him learn a summoning charm.

The tournament… Voldemort… Cedric… the dementors on Privet Drive that summer…

_Yes_, thought a voice in the back of his head. _Keep thinking. What happened before the dementors attacked you?_

So, Harry went over his memories, slowly, backwards, play-by-play. He had a feeling if he didn't do this, something terrible would happen.

Hungry, thought another voice, not unlike the first. Eat. Tear. Kill.

_Ignore it_, chimed in the first.

Flesh.

_Don't let it take you._

Bone splintering beneath teeth.

_You are not a monster._

Terrified screams.

_Don't go to sleep._

Desperate pleas for mercy.

_You'll never wake up._

EAT!

_NO!_

On and on the battle raged inside his tortured noggin. Both voices were terrible, in their own way. One part of him, desperate to kill, to eat, to create more of it. The other, willing to do, say, or suck anything in its fight to stay human.

Finally, after many staircases and people yelling at them, one old man threatening to sic his cat on them, and a man who thought he was a knight challenging the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Obnoxious, they reached a set of doors.

"Madame Pomfrey! There was a kid, and Harry tried talking to him and oh, god, oh, god, he got bitten and there's blood and he's gonna die and-"

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger." Said a firm, female voice. "I will do what I can. You two, however, must leave."

"What?!" shrieked Ron. "But we're his best friends! We need to know if he'll be OK!"

"Do you have no trust in me, Mr. Weasley? Your friend will be fine."

"But…" Hermione's voice was barely a whisper, "but if he… if someone needs to… deal with him… it- it needs to be us. It just needs to."

Madame Pomfrey was silent for a minute. Then, "put him on that bed."

Harry was laid down on a soft surface. Ron then let out an unearthly scream;

"YOUR MOTHER IS A BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*ING *BEEEEEEEEEEEP LORANIPSUM BEEEEEEEEEEEP ADMIDUMVENIUM BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP TRRRAGULA BEEEEEEEEEEP HIPPOPOTAMUS BEEEEEEEEEEP REPUBLICAN BEEEEEEEEEEEEP IN DANIEL RADCLIFFE BEEEEEEEEEEP WITH A BUCKET OF BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP AND A CASTLE FAR AWAY WHERE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP SOUP! BEEEEEEEEEEEP WITH A BUCKET OF BEEEEEP MICKEY MOUSE BEEEEEEEP STICK OF DYNAMITE BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP MAGICAL BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP ALAKAZAM!"

"Despite that, Mr. Weasley," said Madam Pomfrey coldly, "I will still summon you if… something needs to be done."

"Thank you," Hermione barely managed before fleeing in choked gasps. Ron stood still for a few moments, then thundered after her.

After a few hours of potions, spells, and healing of the bite, the school nurse muttered, "done all I can do," and sat down. "Harry?" she murmured softly. "Can you hear me? Please, please don't turn. Say something, Harry. Anything. Please, Harry, say something."

Harry found his tongue was much heavier than normal, and when he spoke, it was in a raspy, whispery voice. "Flesh…" he moaned softly.

The woman let out a strangled cry. "No, Harry, no, don't turn, Dumbledore's coming, he'll know what to do, just a little longer, _please_."

"Hungry… no… stay away from me… I'm dangerous… don't come close… please go away… come to me… I'm waiting for you…"

Madame Pomfrey said nothing. But, in her direction, there were heartbroken, dry sobs.


	2. still there

Six people gathered around Harry's hospital bed. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. Hermione gripped Harry's hand, a knife clutched in her free one, just in case the unthinkable happened. "Why is he still unconscious?" asked Ron, who was standing behind Hermione. "Don't the infected wake up, like, an hour after they get bit?"

"As was discussed during class, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall (not nearly as stiffly as she normally spoke) "no witch or wizard has ever received a bite from any sort of Zombie. The affects are completely unknown."

"All the more reason to get rid of him!" cried Fudge, almost frustrated that Harry had not been stabbed in the head or expelled yet. "What if he's infectious? He'll kill us all! Just take him into the forest, let it find its own way!"

"Oh, so now he's an it, is he?" growled Hagrid. "Harry ain't dangerous. He'd never hurt no one!"

"How do you know that?" demanded Umbridge. "What if he tries to eat someone?! Eat me!"

"Then, by all means, it is no loss!" hissed McGonagall. Then, she turned to Dumbledore. "He's not going to turn. Is he, Albus?"

Albus was silent.

"Albus?"

Again, silence.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!"

"I DON'T KNOW!" he stood angrily and glared dangerously at Minerva, then collapsed with a sigh. "I don't know." He muttered again.

"That's what I thought." Said Fudge, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"We'll wait and see the eyes. We need to know what they look like before we do anything. If they're green, than there is no reason Harry should not be able to attend school. However, if the irises have turned black, than Hagrid, Mr. Weasley and miss Granger will take him out to the quidditch field to… do what is necessary." At this Umbridge giggled and Fudge grinned like a child who had just gotten a giant bag of candy.

Hermione kept her grip. Ron rubbed her shoulder. Both of them were staring at the Boy Who Lived with wide, terrified, tearful eyes. Neither of them wanted the eyes to be red. Harry had been a true, kind, loving friend to them both over the years. He'd supported Ron in his arguments with his brothers, even if he knew the other person was right. He'd held Hermione when she cried over a nine-out-of-ten paper, and didn't even get irritated with her. Now they were facing losing him forever. Neither of them knew what would happen if he left.

Neither Hermione nor Ron had ever been much of a believer, but they each prayed for the same thing now. _Please,_ they thought. _Please, let him live. Please don't take him away. Please._

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry's eyelids fluttered. His friends, teachers and enemies all took in his new appearance. His skin was sunken and waxy, lined with black veins. His hair was now limp, and looked a bit like black seaweed. He gasped, and revealed that his teeth now came to a point. A slight groan instigated that his speech skills had been impaired.

And the eyes… one half of each iris was red, and the other was green, merging into a strange color where they touched. Dolores and the minister looked disappointed that they wouldn't get to kill Harry, but everyone else was just confused.

"What does this mean, Albus?"

"It means that the impossible has happened. Harry's will to live was so strong, the infection took over half his brain only."

"Meaning?" asked Hagrid.

"Meaning that Harry is still partly human. But he now has an insatiable craving for-"

"Flesh…" moaned Harry.

"Yes, Harry, quite right. But, think how this will help you defeat Voldemort! You are now immune to the killing curse! And-"

"_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!"_ cried McGonagall.

"What?!" he cried.

"He is UN. DEAD!"

"Well just because he's undead doesn't mean he has to be unemployed!"

Everyone in the vicinity groaned.


	3. oh, no! what a tradgety!

During breakfast the next morning, the golden trio attracted a lot of stares and attention. Hermione and Ron each held an end of a ten-foot metal pole, attached to the metal collar around Harry's neck. As Hermione and Ron dug into their breakfasts, Harry watched them longingly. Zombies are unable to eat anything but human or animal flesh, as Harry discovered when he attempted to eat some porridge, and spat it up all over poor Madame Pomfrey.

"Morning, filthy Half-Breed." Crooned an oily voice. Looking up, Harry saw a woman he hated more than any other. She slouched and pretended to shuffle in a stiff gate. "Ggrrrr… braaaaaiiinnss…" she mocked.

"Leave him alone," Growled Hermione, standing up.

"Ooohh, look, it's the brave little mudblood coming to the rescue," her head poked around her. "I guess that makes you the damsel in distress, huh, handsome?" she poked a finger near Harry's face and waved it tauntingly-

-there was a sharp pain in Harry's neck and he realized he was on the floor. He had tried to lunge at Umbridge and been jerked back by Ron and Hermione. Dolores Umbridge ran screaming from the great hall.

"Hungry!" growled Harry, trying to go after the meal that had taunted his inability to consume it moments ago.

"I know, harry, I know, and I know how frustrating this has to be, I'd be furious if it was me-"

"_Eat!_" he broke free of his friend's grips and lunged for the girl's throat. He tackled her to the ground as she thrashed, kicked and screamed. He ignored it. It exhilarated him. He yanked back her bushy hair, exposing her throat, and reared up to take a bite, but she kicked him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. She got up, reattached the collar, and dragged him to his feet.

"_Now_ do you get it?!" yelled Ron over the ruckus. "Zombies are dangerous meat-eaters!"

"No! No, Ron, that was a fluke, that's all, he'll get better, he will! I know it, he will!"

"Fine. But, you know what? I'm not putting myself at risk. I'm outta here." And Ron, like the insensitive bastard he was, threw his pole to the ground and left. Hermione started to sob uncontrollably.

Harry reached out a stiff hand toward her, but could barely touch wisps of her hair. "Ahhmm… suhhrry… er…my…nee…"

"No, no, Harry," she gasped, rubbing at her eyes. "It wasn't you. You didn't do anything. He'll come around, he always does." Then she stood up, and helped him to his feet, the incident already forgotten.

Unfortunately, the peace wouldn't last for long. They had Umbridge first, and when they got out their books, Umbridge walked over to Harry and Hermione and said loudly, "are you," she pointed two stubby fingers at Harry, "sure," violent nodding of her head, "you can read?" tapping the book.

Harry growled. "Stiihhhl… hungreeehh… trouhlll… wuuuhhmuuuhnn."

"What's that?" she asked tauntingly, cupping her hand onto her ear.

"A warning," said Hermione coldly.

"Leave him alone."

Everyone looked to the speaker. To everyone's surprise, it was Draco Malfoy who had spoken. He was standing, and even with his face hidden, he towered over Umbridge.

"Pardon, Mr. Malfoy?" she crooned in her sweetest voice.

"I said, leave him alone." Said Draco, lifting his eyes to look at her. He wore an expression of hatred and malice. "You know, quit bugging him. You know damn well he can read. He didn't do anything wrong to you, but that can be easily remedied."

"Why are you standing up for him?!" shrieked Umbridge, staring at the point of his wand with terror. "He's just a half-breed, it's not like he has feelings!"

Draco took a deep, steadying breath. "My best friend as a kid was a Zombie. We keep her in our house. I brushed her hair, talked to her, sang to her. She was my best friend as a kid. Then Father found me playing with her one day. He killed her, just like you want to kill Harry. I know for a fact that she had thoughts and emotions that she wouldn't have had if I had left her out there."

Umbridge scoffed. "Like what?"

"She was scared to die. She was sad that I was hurt trying to help her. She was happy that I still loved her. I promised her that I'd protect her kind forever. Ask Crabbe and Goyle what happened when I caught those chucking rocks at a herd."

The two big, beefy boys nodded in acknowledgement. "Now, I could kill you, but I won't. She wouldn't've wanted that. Now you can shut up about that half-breed crap and let Harry do his work in peace, or you can answer to me."

Then Draco sat down and acted as if nothing had just happened. Everyone stared at him as if he had just eaten a large, smelly boot.

Umbridge stood still for about three minutes, then Hermione let Harry out of his collar, and he had a meal.


	4. boy trouble and losing a zom-zom

"Oh, NO," wailed Hermione dramatically. "It's so, AWFUL. Harry has EATEN professor Umbridge's BRAIN! WHAT shall we DO? Oh, the hu-MAN-ity." She was sweeping her arms about and talking like a loon. All the other students were laughing for their lives. However, neither Harry nor Hermione was laughing that afternoon in Dumbledore's office that afternoon. Fudge's face was a shade of purple that would have made uncle Vernon proud.

"_This is grounds for expulsion!_" he shrieked, pounding his fist on the desk. Hermione was frantic, horrified that Voldemort would try to kill Harry if he left Hogwarts. It was up to her to keep him safe.

"You can't blame Harry, really," she told him coldly. "It says, in the ethical treatment of magical creatures, subsection B, paragraph 113, that no zombie can be arrested or executed for eating anyone."

"I am aware of the wizard's law, Miss Granger," hissed Fudge, "but those laws were written for full-zombies. Potter could have very well known what he was doing," he leaned into Harry's vacant stare with a sneer on his face. "Listening to her scream… cutting me down a man… probably has a hit list or-"

"no." said a voice from the door. The three turned to see Draco Malfoy in the doorway. "I saw the whole thing." He strode forward and pointed at Harry's collar. "he was fussing with it, so Hermione loosened it a little bit, and she started waving her hand in front of his face, and… well, it gave him just the lenience he needed. Well, a dog will bite you if you bait it, won't it? And you know her thing about half-breeds, and… well, Think of it as a giant cheeseburger just sitting there." With the last line, Fudge slouched back in his chair.

Fudge nodded slightly. "I like cheeseburgers." He murmured.

"Of course you do!" said Draco, using this to his advantage. "Now, imagine a leash holding you back from the biggest, juiciest, cheesiest cheeseburger there ever was, just sitting there, right in front of you. If you got a chance to lunge for it, would you take it?"

Fudge closed his eyes and licked his lips. _Smack, smack, smack._ "Mmm…m'okay…y'can go. I'm goin' to McDonalds." And he stumbled out of the room, holding his hat in his hands.

Hermione looked to Draco. "How did you _do_ that?!"

Draco shrugged. "The man likes cheeseburgers. Whenever he has dinner at our house, he always asks the house-elves to make him a cheeseburger." He locked eyes with Hermione, blushed, and said, "Well… 'Bye." And ran off.

"Wait," called Hermione. He, unsurprisingly, didn't stop. "Wait!" she called again, dragging Harry as fast as she could after Draco. Through long corridors, down winding staircases, deeper and deeper into the castle she chased him. Finally, he turned the wrong corner and faced a stone wall. Hermione caught his shoulders and turned him toward her. Harry had long-since fallen behind and was now wandering around the castle with a heavy metal collar around his neck.

"OK, then, spill," she said in a voice much like Professor McGonagall's. "You hated Harry and me just yesterday. What changed, besides the fact that he's now half-undead? Think you'll stand a better chance taking him to Voldemort if you get close to me?"

"No," said Draco, embarrassed. "I, uh… it's kinda complicated-"

"I don't mind complicated."

He let out a sigh. "Alright… alright…

"When I first met you, I was terrified of my parents. When I went to my father, saying I'd met the smartest, most beautiful girl in the world, but she was muggle-born, he shot me a curve-ball. Y'see, Dad's been wanting out of the death eaters for ages. He told me it was too dangerous to repent right now, there were rumors of something strong happening. So, I played the muggle-born hating, pureblood worshiping douchebag. I fooled everyone, even the sorting hat, even Dumbledore, even… you…

"And then, last year… well, you kinda know… but, Dad went to Dumbledore that same night, and said he wanted to be a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. He told me I could finally talk to you, maybe even… make a friend of you. Perhaps more, if you wanted. I've been working up the nerve to talk to you for ages. Today, in class, Umbridge gave me the perfect chance. I told you guys about Alyssa, and I backed you and Harry up- close to my father, Fudge is- and, well, here we are."

"Here we are," agreed Hermione. She, too, was now blushing furiously. Had Malfoy, rich, pureblood, prejudice Malfoy, been admiring her from a distance for years, put on an act, all to keep them both safe? She wrapped her arms around his neck, and stared into those unfathomable gray eyes. He stroked her cheek, brushing back her hair, only making the blushing worse. "Erm, would you mind, maybe, being friends with Harry too?"

"I don't see why not." Their foreheads were touching now. His teeth nicked her upper lip. Then, with a thrill of horror, she pulled away.

"Harry!" she gasped. "Oh, god!"

"What is it?"

"Harry! I've lost him!"


	5. lost: one zom-zom

Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the corridors on the loudspeaker. "Attention, students, your attention please. This is not a drill; one of our half-zombie students, Mr. Harry Potter has escaped from his handler, Miss Hermione Granger. Please proceed to your house common rooms in a calm and orderly fashion."

Three seconds of silence passed this announcement. Then all pandemonium broke loose as the students ran and screamed to their dormitories.

"I said _orderly_," said McGonagall into the speaker on her desk. Then, throwing up her hands, she declared, "why do I even try?" with a heavy sigh, she turned to the fifth-year boy and girl behind her. "You two, get to finding him. Go on! The last thing we need is another casualty on our hands."

"That'll be easy to deal with," whispered Draco as he and Hermione scurried away. "We'll just promise Fudge a cheeseburger and he'll be off and running." Hermione stifled a giggle.

It took several hours, but after so much blood, seat, and tears, after Hermione and Draco had looked in every classroom, bathroom, and broom closet, finally- _finally…_

…they were no closer to finding Harry then they had been three hours ago.

"I seriously doubt he's in there, Draco," she snapped, pulling her companion's head out of a trash can.

"Well, I'm open to suggestions!" he growled at her, throwing it aside. "You don't seem to be putting in much effort, you filthy little mudblo- I'm sorry," he allowed hid arms to encircle her as she whimpered. "I know you care about Harry more than anyone. Especially that poor, disgusting blood tr- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out, is all. I want Harry to be OK as much as you do, and for all we know he could've wandered well-past the forbidden forest. He could be headed to Paris, for all we know!"

"Draco- that's it!"

"What's it?"

"The forbidden forest!" and they had the same realization at the exact same time, which they blurted out in unison;

"_Hagrid!"_

And without further ado, they were panting, sweaty and pink, catching their breaths on the game keeper's front steps. They hammered their fists hard on Hagrid's front door, and his big, hairy face beamed at them.

"Bin wonderin' when yeh'd show up," he chuckled. "c'mon, I got Harry in the back. Likes it in me pumpkins, guess they remind 'im 'o brains."

Sure enough, the boy who lived was tied up like a hippogriff in the pumpkins, chowing down on one of their innards. "does everything the undead eat look disgusting?"


End file.
